


Don't Put Out Your Fire (I Need You)

by dressedupasmyself



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Coffee Shop, Everyone smokes too much, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, Humour, Kissing, Luna Lovegood is different, M/M, Sad Cuddling, The Breakfast Club - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 16:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21479173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dressedupasmyself/pseuds/dressedupasmyself
Summary: “Put that away.”Harry jumped as Draco snatched his phone from his hand. “Give it back!”Draco locked the screen with a very finalising click. “You’re causing yourself unnecessary pain.”Harry rolled his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”Draco came to stand next to him, placing the phone in the pocket of Harry’s apron. “I know how hard it is to walk away when you really care for someone, so I’m trying to save you from yourself. You are worth more than gold, and I won’t let you settle for someone who treats you like aluminium.”“Aluminium is a very versatile metal,” Harry noted.orEveryone smokes too much, Luna is a Force of Nature and Harry is mostly bored.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Rolf Scamander
Comments: 7
Kudos: 141





	Don't Put Out Your Fire (I Need You)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "Don't Leave" by A R I Z O N A.
> 
> Edited 15/06/2020.

_They say it's the darkest right before the dawn  
But I know there's no morning, there's no sunshine if you're gone  
By now, you're probably tired of chasing all my storms  
But don't put out your fire, I need you to lead me home_

_***_

“I lied about the cigarette stain.”

Harry looked up from where he was filling in a crossword in that morning’s newspaper. Draco always gets them for the coffeeshop, and Harry hadn’t gotten a chance to fill it in that day.

“What?” he asked, distracted.

Ginny bit her lip and made a little sound of frustration. This caught Harry’s attention, because Ginny is never quiet. Not like this. He put down the newspaper and got up from his slouching position on the couch.

“I lied,” Ginny repeated, her voice catching slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said gently, holding his hands out in front of him as if he was placating a scared kitten. “Just tell me what happened. It’s not like I was very attached to the couch, in the first place.”

Their ugly, diarrhoea-yellow couch had been a house-warming gift from Ginny’s older brother, George. Harry had suspected George of deliberately sabotaging any plans they might have had i.e. interior design, and the mad grin on George’s face when Harry had thanked him for his gift had all but confirmed that theory.

“I told you it was Luna.” Ginny faced him head on, tears welling up in her eyes.

Harry frowned. Luna smoked more than even Harry himself did. It was frankly just a matter of time before she stained their furniture with a misplaced cigarette, especially given how scatter-brained she could be.

“It wasn’t?”

Harry thought about what could possibly have Ginny in such a state. He’d never yelled at her, or even gotten mad, really. They were good at being honest with each other. Was it her who stained the couch? She didn’t smoke, but he wouldn’t care if she wanted to light up – even if she had taken one of his cigarettes, and not smoked it down to its limits, as he tended to do.

Ginny sniffled and crossed her arms over her chest. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how, I’m so sorry, I fucked up.”

Harry stepped closer to her and tried to take one of her hands in his. Her hand was cold and trembling, and she pulled away from him. He dropped his hands to his sides and frowned at her.

“Ginny, please just tell me what’s upset you this much. Did somebody hurt you? I can’t make it better until I know what’s the matter.”

Ginny shook her head. “You can’t make it better. I’m so sorry, Harry. It was Blaise’s cigarette. I knocked it out of his hand when we kissed.”

Harry felt his blood run cold, and he took a step back. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he shut it again. He glanced around the room as his throat closed up.

Ginny had kissed Blaise. His friend, Blaise, had made out with Harry’s girlfriend, on Harry’s couch? How many times had it happened? Had they done more than that before, but only gotten caught now? How long have they been lying to him?

Then Harry’s gaze shifted to Ginny’s face. He saw shame and guilt and regret, but mostly he found more questions. Did she not love him anymore? Did she ever actually love him, or was she only with him because it was convenient? Was it his fault, somehow? Did he not do enough for her? Was he too skinny, too strange looking, not smart enough?

Harry started to breathe faster, and he was vaguely aware of Ginny’s fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“Harry? I’m sorry, Harry, are you alright? Sit down, just breathe, it’s okay.”

Harry let her push him down onto the couch – the couch where she had snogged his best friend. He pushed her hands away and got up.

“I’ve got to go,” he mumbled. He grabbed his keys and phone, and his hands shook as he unlocked the front door. Ginny called after him, but he ignored her in favour of getting into his car. He had no idea what was going on anymore, but he knew he had to get away.

He drove on autopilot, and soon he was pulling up in front of the coffeeshop. He managed to get out of the car, lock it, fumble with more keys, unlock the shop’s front door, disengage the alarm, lock the door again behind him. He made it to the back and up the steps and knocked.

It only took a few seconds for Draco to open the door, a confused expression on his face.

“Yes, what is it, Harry?” His eyes widened. “We didn’t forget another important order for tomorrow, did we?”

“Ginny made out with Blaise on the poo couch.”

Draco sobered up immediately. He opened the door wider and Harry went inside.

“Tell me what happened.”

Harry automatically went to the kitchen while Draco turned on the kettle. Once Harry was seated at the kitchen table, he told his best friend everything Ginny told him.

“So, I don’t really know much else, and I don’t think I want to right now.” Harry buried his hands in his hair.

Draco sat down next to him, his hand warm on Harry’s back. Harry let out a harsh sigh, and just let it hurt for a bit. Draco didn’t say anything. He understood pain better than anybody Harry knew, and he knew the value of allowing yourself to just feel.

Eventually the kettle let out a whistle and Draco stood to pour two cups of tea. When he got back, he put one in front of Harry. “Alright, so what are you going to do now?”

Harry wrapped his hands around the hot mug and shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I should talk to Ginny and see why she did it? Maybe it was a big misunderstanding and we can still fix this.”

“Listen, mate, I know you love her, but you can’t do that.”

Harry looked up sharply. Draco never called him that. “Why not?”

Draco winced. “Look, regardless of the circumstances, she lied to you about that stain. That means she’s afraid, because she knows it meant more than just a mistaken peck on the sofa. People who feel happy and secure in their relationships don’t feel the need to do that.”

Harry slumped in his seat. “So, you’re saying I make her miserable, and I should back off? Let her be with somebody better?” The words hurt as he forced them past the lump in his throat.

Draco’s hand came up to clamp his wrist tightly. “No! You’re not listening to me. I’m saying _you _deserve better, Harry. You deserve to be loved back just as much as you love her.”

“But,” Harry protested quietly, “I love her.”

“I know.”

Harry rubbed at his face with his free hand. He was still so confused, and a little bit tired. The only thing he was sure of was that he wasn’t going back home that night.

“What do I do?”

Draco removed his hand from Harry’s wrist to pick up his mug. “We drink tea, and then we’ll watch a shitty action movie with no romance, and then you can stay here for a bit, because I don’t trust you not to forgive that bitch within two seconds, and with no regard for your own feelings.”

Harry bristled. “Don’t call her that.”

Draco held up his hands in surrender. “You’re proving my point exactly, but I’ll back off. Are you hungry?”

***

Harry leaned against the counter, scrolling through Instagram. It was nine in the morning. The early morning coffee rush had passed, and now Harry was waiting until lunchtime, when the second rush of the day would start. There wasn’t much for him to do, and he was feeling like a pile of crap.

He hated social media. Everybody looked so happy all the time. It was such bullshit, and he was not in the mood for it. He left Instagram and opened his texts instead. Ginny’s name was still at the top, only Draco’s above her, from where he’d ordered Harry to take him coffee in bed that morning. Harry hesitated for only a second before opening the chat.

They’d been so happy. Well, _he’d_ been happy, if there was any truth to what Draco had said the previous night. He read their messages in reverse, and his chest ached with missing her.

“Put that away.”

Harry jumped as Draco snatched his phone from his hand. “Give it back!”

Draco locked the screen with a very finalising click. “You’re causing yourself unnecessary pain.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

Draco came to stand next to him, placing the phone in the pocket of Harry’s apron. “I know how hard it is to walk away when you really care for someone, so I’m trying to save you from yourself. You are worth more than gold, and I won’t let you settle for someone who treats you like aluminium.”

“Aluminium is a very versatile metal,” Harry noted, even as he felt a bit strange. His aunt and uncle had made it clear to him from a very young age that he was barely even worth the ugly, worn-down clothes on his back. Logically, he knew that wasn’t true, but he still felt caught off guard every time one of his friends complemented him or scolded him for putting others above himself. He insisted that he just never wanted to be selfish, but he also knew that he could sometimes take it too far.

“And yet nobody is saving up for it, because you can literally find it lying around on the streets.” Draco stepped around the counter to clear a table that Harry hadn’t bothered with. “You’re gold, Harry.” He wiped at the table dramatically. “Gold!”

Harry laughed, watching his friend work.

The bell above the door tingled, and Harry turned to greet the new customer, only for his smile to freeze on his face. Draco stopped cleaning and folded his arms across his chest.

Blaise’s hair was strategically windswept, as usual, with sunglasses balanced on the bridge of his nose. He seemed perfectly put together, and Harry was acutely aware of the contrast between them. Of course Ginny would rather be with Blaise, instead of messy, can’t-even-comb-his-hair-properly Harry.

“Hi, Blaise,” Harry greeted quietly. “Can I get you some coffee?”

“No!” Draco exclaimed. “Don’t you fucking give him anything, Harry, unless he pays triple.”

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored Draco’s remark. “Coffee, Blaise?”

Blaise shook his head and came to stand in front of where Harry was standing. “I came to apologise, Harry.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said.

“It’s really not,” Blaise said. He took off his sunglasses and perched them on top of his head. He looked so attractive that Harry had to look away in a futile effort to feel less inferior. He busied himself with wiping down the already spotless counter. “Look, Ginny called me last night after you’d left - “

“Oh, did she now?” Draco interrupted. Normally, Harry would have been amused at the sight of him, plates stacked to his chin, and scowling from here to the moon. This time, Harry wasn’t in the mood.

“Draco, will you quit it?” Harry asked calmly. Draco must have seen something in his expression, because he slipped into the kitchen with one last glare at Blaise.

“She’s really upset.”

Harry felt his heart lurch at the thought of Ginny hurting. It went against everything in him to grit his teeth and not run back to her. He knew Draco would kill him if he did. “Well, maybe you should go comfort her, then.”

Blaise frowned, and Harry sighed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“No, you did, and you have every right to be angry.” Blaise scratched at his nose. “I’ll back off, mate, I promise. I just wanted to come by and say I’m sorry. I don’t even know what happened, one moment we were laughing and then- “

Something must have shown on Harry’s face, because Blaise shut himself off midsentence.

“Right. I’ll go now. Just – sorry.”

Harry watched Blaise leave; his knuckles white where he was clenching the countertop.

“Is the bastard gone?” Draco called from the kitchen, and Harry let out a breath.

“I’m taking a break.”

***

Draco found him half an hour later, sitting on the steps behind the shop and smoking his fourth cigarette in a row.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” Draco called up at him.

“We’re all dying anyway,” Harry remarked drily. “Maybe I’m just trying to speed up the process.”

“Should I be worried?” Draco asked, only halfway joking. Harry shrugged. He watched Draco effortlessly make his way up the stairway and plop down next to Harry. He reached out to take the cigarette from Harry, placing it between his own lips. He sucked lightly, and then coughed it all out almost immediately.

“You always waste my smoke,” Harry reproached, taking it back. “Shit’s expensive.”

“That’s the point,” Draco said. He watched Harry with an intrigued expression. “Why aren’t you mad at Blaise?”

“I am, a little,” Harry said. “Just not as much as I should be, I suppose.”

Draco scoffed. “Well, at least you know there is an expected level of anger. But seriously. He snogged your girl, and he’s your friend. I’d have ripped him a new one, already. Still might.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s not worth it.”

Draco cupped his hands around his mouth. “Gold, Harry!” he shouted, making Harry jump.

“Fuck, Draco, stop with that, already.”

Draco settled back down. “No. You’re worth it.”

Harry shook his head again, taking another drag.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re going out and getting nice and smashed tonight,” Draco decided. “That always works.”

Harry harrumphed. “It never works.”

“It always works!” Draco insisted, clapping his hands together. “We’re already going, you can’t stop it.”

“Who’s watching the shop?” Harry asked, desperate to distract his friend before he fell off the stairwell in a fit of passionate yelling.

Draco’s eyes widened, and he jumped down to the ground quickly. He turned back to Harry before he went back into the shop. “You can’t stop it!”

“I’m not trying to,” Harry mumbled to himself. He sighed. This was going to be a disaster.

***

Of all the things that were going so very wrong in his life, Harry was immensely grateful that it had all happened on a Wednesday. The pub was practically empty aside from him and Draco, so they sat in the corner with their drinks and watched the three other people who were playing darts.

“That guy is pretty fit,” Draco commented.

“Oh?” Harry asked vaguely, not immensely interested. He tapped his cigarette against the side of an ashtray. “The blonde one?”

Draco scoffed. “No, though he has got nice legs. The dark one with the butt.”

Harry hummed. “He’s not bad.”

Draco groaned. “You used to have such _interesting_ comments on other people’s bodies, which I don’t get because you’re single now and should, in theory, not have lost that.”

Harry shrugged and took a long sip of his drink. He didn’t like getting drunk all that much. It made him feel out of control and dizzy, which he wasn’t a big fan of. Given the extenuating circumstances, he was willing to let that little detail slide for the night. “I guess I’m not in the mood.”

Draco huffed and took out his phone. “Fine, I’ll call in reinforcements.” He typed quickly, the smallest of smirks playing at his lips.

Harry rolled his eyes. “You are not ditching me tonight. This whole business was your idea, and I am not going to sit here and look like a loner who just got dumped.”

Draco finished his call and slung an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t be silly. You’ll be a loner who just got _cheated_ on. It’s a subtle difference, I know, but very apparent when you know what you’re looking for.”

Harry snorted and shoved Draco’s arm off him.

“Fuck off.”

Luna showed up ten minutes later, her hair flowing around her like a halo. She was wearing a yellow cropped t-shirt and light wash mom jeans that Harry thought looked unspeakably comfortable. She left a trail of smoke behind her, and Harry smiled despite himself.

“If it isn’t my favourite cousin and his sad, sad best friend,” she greeted when she reached their table. She glanced around at the empty pub and raised her eyebrow at Draco. It was so like the way Draco did it that Harry felt a soft wave of affection wash over him. “Why are you sitting in this dump when there are much better things to do out there in the wild?”

“We were waiting for you,” Draco said. He downed the remainder of his drink and pointed at Harry’s. “Bottoms up, buddy.”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry grumbled, but did as he was told. “Where are we going?”

“I have a friend,” Luna said vaguely. This wasn’t Harry’s first rodeo, and so he felt no small amount of dread at her words. Luna’s friends ranged from sweet college girls working at Starbucks to large guys with dreadlocks and too many swearwords tattooed on them. There was really no telling what they would be getting up to that night, and Harry wasn’t feeling very adventurous.

“Oh, goodie,” Draco said with a grin. “I love your friends.”

They left the pub, and Harry shivered in the sudden cool air.

“Maybe I should just go home,” Harry started to say, but Draco shot him such a filthy glare that he just held up his hands in surrender.

“Harry, you need to get rid of your poisonous emotions,” Luna said. “Otherwise it grows and grows until there’s no space left for anything good, like sex or food, and then you’ll die.”

“She’s really very wise,” Draco said sombrely, hugging Luna to him. “Listen to her, Harry.”

Harry sighed, giving in. “Fine. Can I borrow your lighter?”

Luna dug it out of her pants and tossed it over to him. He lit up and handed it back.

“I fucking hate smoke,” Draco complained. “You are all going to die.”

Luna breathed out a neat ring. “I have some unfortunate news for you, darling, but so are you.”

“Fuck off, at least I’ll smell good when they do my autopsy.”

Harry grinned. “Are you planning on getting murdered?”

Draco straightened his jacket dramatically. “Of course. It will be one of those mysteries that’ll never be solved, and all crime fiction writers will use it as inspiration until it becomes cliché enough that people want to claw their eyes out when they see it.”

Luna narrowed her eyes, as if she was trying to picture it. “Yes, I do think that would be a good way for you to die.”

“Geez, guys, you sure are making me feel better with all this talk of my best friend dying,” Harry complained.

Draco grinned at him and reached over to mess up his hair. Harry tried to bat his hand away, but it was no use. His hair was a train wreck anyway. “Are you saying you’ll cry at my funeral?”

“Please, Draco, Harry will be the lead crier. I’ll be second, of course, since you’re my favourite cousin.” Luna lit a new cigarette with the butt of her old one, then dropped the stump to the ground and stepped on it. She stooped down to pick it up and flicked it into a nearby bin as they passed it.

“I’m your only cousin,” Draco remarked dryly, and Luna shrugged at him.

“What are you two getting Ron and Hermione for their wedding gift?” Luna changed the subject.

“Seeing as they didn’t invite me, I refuse to give them shit,” Draco grumbled.

“Really?” Luna sounded surprised. “I thought they’d have been over the little bitch you used to be by now.”

Harry stopped walking. “Fuck.”

Draco stopped a few steps ahead and glanced back at him. “What is it?”

Harry groaned. “I’m supposed to go with Ginny. We’re walking down the aisle together and everything.”

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled at Harry’s arm to get him walking again. “That’s in a month, you’ll feel better by then. Also, you can keep a needle in your hand and prick her through her dress while you walk, to see how she likes being stabbed in the back. It’ll be fine.”

“Draco!” Luna scolded. “We do not believe in revenge. Revenge is for people who have lost touch with their spiritual identity.” She brushed her hair over her shoulder. “And besides, I have a better idea.”

“Anything is better than maiming Ron’s sister at his wedding,” Harry said, shooting a dirty glare at Draco, who had his best butter-can’t-melt expression on his face.

“Harry can take you as his plus one, Draco. That’ll be oodles of fun.”

Harry laughed at Draco’s outraged expression.

“I will not give them the satisfaction of finding a way around not being invited! I’m perfectly content to stay at home and knit, or whatever people do who don’t get invited to things.”

“You’d stab your eye out with the needle, Draco, please don’t do that,” Harry snarked. “I think it’s a great idea. That way you can keep an eye on me and make sure I don’t accidentally, I don’t know, get Ginny pregnant so she’s forced to stay with me.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Oh, are we joking about that already? Just this morning you were still crying and moping all over the place, scaring away the customers. What happened?”

“It’s his soul,” Luna said confidently. “It’s sensing that he’s close to releasing his toxins.”

Harry snorted. “Or maybe the booze is kicking in, and I’m saying fuck it to being aluminium?”

Draco clapped his hands together. “Fuck yes! I told you it would work. Gold, baby!”

Luna made a sudden left turn and lead them into a dark building.

“This is an insurance company,” Draco noted dubiously. “What are we up to, Lunes?”

Luna ignored him, skipping her way over to the elevator and pressing the up button fourteen times.

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance, and Harry shrugged. They stepped into the elevator when it reached their level, and immediately got hit with the smell of weed. Right. It would be those friends of Luna’s, then.

“Is Zacharias going to be there?” Draco asked hesitantly, evidently having come to the same conclusion as Harry.

Luna was preoccupied with fixing the braided strand of her hair back in place with a bobby pin, her eyes glued on the mirror against the back wall of the lift. “Might be.”

Draco groaned and slammed his head back against the wall. Harry knew that Draco had gone home with one of Luna’s friends one time, and that the freak had developed a weird obsession with him.

“I don’t want to go anymore,” he complained.

“Don’t be a baby,” Luna said. “Harry’ll punch him if he tries to touch your bits without permission. Won’t you, Harry?”

“Sure,” Harry said. “Or we can do whatever soul cleansing thing Luna has in mind and then hide from him for the rest of the evening?”

Draco scowled. “I was willing to sock Blaise on your behalf this morning, and you won’t do the same for me?”

Harry snorted. “Yes, well, maybe if you hadn’t gone and fucked a literal martial artist with muscles the size of Russia, I would have considered it. Try to keep that in mind next time.”

The lift dinged open before Draco could respond, and Luna dragged them out onto the rooftop. There was a big bonfire going on, and someone was playing what sounded like a ukulele, or maybe a banjo. Fairy lights were strung over every available surface and Harry recognised some of the faces as they walked past.

Draco stuck close to Harry, straining his neck every which way while they waited for Luna to hand them a drink from the ice bath.

A guy with long blonde locks and freckles came up to them. Harry dug his elbow into Draco’s side (the universal signal for ‘look at the pretty person’). Draco’s head swung around, and he looked confused for a second, but then he seemed to notice the surfer dude of beauty in front of them. He nodded subtly and made a so-so motion with his hand, down by his side where only Harry could see.

“Luna!” the guy greeted. His eyes swept over Harry and Draco before returning to her. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Luna looked up from where she was rummaging through bottles of water and apple cider. “Hi, Graham.”

Graham looked back at Harry, and then at Draco. He frowned. “Do I know you? You look so familiar.”

Luna finally seemed to find what she was looking for, because she stood with two bottles in her left hand. Her fingers were red from the ice, and she shook her free hand to get rid of some of the water.

“Oh, this is my cousin Draco and my friend Harry. They went to school with us.”

Graham’s eyes widened in recognition. “Right! You were three years ahead of me, I think!” He looked at Draco. “Weren’t you the Slytherin prefect at some point?”

Draco nodded hesitantly. “Yeah.”

Graham grinned. “Cool, man. Well, enjoy yourselves, please don’t fall off the rooftop.”

“Is that a legitimate concern?” Draco asked, eyes narrow.

Graham shrugged. “You never know, man, you never know.” He sauntered off with a last wave to Luna, and Draco retched.

“I fucking hate that guy. He used to sit in the common room and report every single broken rule to Snape. It put a damper on any parties we wanted to have.”

“Snitches get stiches,” Luna sing-songed. “Now come on, time to get cleansed.”

Harry and Draco followed Luna to the edge of the rooftop where it looked over an empty parking lot. She flicked the top off the purple bottle in her hand, then swallowed down about a third of it. She handed the bottle to Draco, who followed suit. “Yum,” he commented, passing it to Harry. “Why are we sharing?”

“We need the bottle,” Luna said, taking a crumpled receipt out of her pocket. She flipped it over and smoothed it out on her leg. “Have you got a pen?”

Draco took one from his back pocket, because he always gets his greatest ideas when drunk, or so he claims, and therefore always needs something to write with. Harry had long ago given up on trying to understand his friend. He tipped his head back and downed the last of the purple liquid. It tasted like grapes and hand sanitiser.

Luna quickly scribbled on the receipt, then held it out for Harry to see. She’d sketched two stick figures on a clumsily drawn couch. The one with the long hair (Harry presumed it was supposed to be Ginny) had the spiky-haired one (Blaise)’s stick figure penis in her mouth. At the top she’d written, “_Harry who_?”

“Thanks, Luna,” Harry said sarcastically. “And I don’t think I’ve ever said this to you before, but fuck you.”

“You don’t think it’s realistic enough?” she asked innocently, inspecting her artwork. “I think there’s a pretty good likeness.”

Draco took one look at the image and burst out laughing. “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to spend just ten minutes in your head, Lunes.”

Luna shrugged and handed Draco’s pen back to him. “Alright, is the bottle empty?”

“Yes,” Harry said grumpily. “Though I’m suddenly wishing it wasn’t so I could drown myself in it.”

Both of his friends ignored him, because they were little shits.

“Excellent!” Luna exclaimed. “Now, Draco, you hold the bottle while I burn this,” she held up the receipt. “We want to get the ashes into the bottle.”

“What the fuck are we doing?” Harry whined. “This is meaningless.”

“Honey, shush,” Draco said in a snooty voice. “We’re cleansing.”

Harry folded his arms with a huff and resigned himself to watching his idiot friends.

Luna had set the receipt alight, and Draco was trying to catch the tendrils of ash with the narrow head of the bottle. As expected, it wasn’t working out great, and Harry didn’t try to help. Eventually, Luna declared the bottle sufficiently prepped.

“Right, now Harry, this bottle is filled with the destroyed remnants of any bitterness that had been present in your soul. Would you agree with that statement?”

Harry scoffed. “I’d hardly call that filled.”

“Great!” Luna ignored him again. She opened the other bottle she’d grabbed earlier. It was just water, and Harry watched as she tried to pour it into the purple bottle. She missed, and about half streamed over Draco’s fingers.

He winced. “You missed.”

Luna shrugged and closed the water bottle, abandoning it somewhere on the ground. “Now pick a flower, Harry.”

For the first time, Harry noticed a small bush with little white flowers growing from it, right on the edge of the building.

Harry sighed. “Luna, what- “

“Just pick a flower, Potter, before I lose all my fingers to frostbite,” Draco snapped. Harry leaned over and picked the nearest flower, leaving some of the stem. He handed it to Luna, who shook her head.

“No, you have to plant it in the destroyed poison.”

Harry turned to Draco and dumped the flower unceremoniously into the purple bottle. “There. What else?”

Luna gently took the bottle form Draco, who immediately wiped his wet fingers on Harry’s shirt. Harry glared at him, but Draco paid him no mind.

“Now this flower will grow from the negative experience, and because that negativity is no longer trapped in your soul, you will be able to move on and grow in a similar way to this flower. Do you feel better yet, Harry?”

Harry thought that he felt, most of all, a bit cold and a bit tipsy. He regarded the slightly wilted flower in the empty booze bottle, filled with the ash of a crude drawing of his girlfriend with another man, done on the back of a receipt for cigarettes. He wanted to laugh at Luna’s absurdity, but he also had a sudden lump in his throat that urged him to cry. He was never getting back together with Ginny, was he? There had been too much distance between them in the last four months for him to consider anything different.

“Thanks, Luna,” he mumbled. He made eye contact with Draco, who must have seen something on his face.

“Thank you, Lunes. I’ll just take that, shall I?” Draco held out his hand.

“Make sure this stays close to Harry so all the last bits of poison can be sucked out, okay?” she said seriously as she handed their creation over to Draco. “Now, let’s go dance!”

Draco squeezed Harry’s elbow, then waited until Luna had reached the bonfire, with her back turned towards them, to dump it in the nearest trashcan. “Alright?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “It’s really over, then?”

Draco’s face softened. “Sorry.”

Harry shrugged, and he stuck his hands into his trouser pockets. “It’s fine. I just really hoped that maybe I’d found something good, you know? Finally, after everything, I would have a proper family.”

Draco tugged at his arm. “Trust me, family can be overrated. Let’s dance.”

***

Harry woke up the next morning in Draco’s bed, with Draco’s knee digging into his back and sunlight streaming through a slit in the curtains. Harry tugged at a stray pillow and covered his face with it. He groaned.

“Shut up,” Draco mumbled. “I’m tired.”

Harry turned so he was facing his friend, hugging the pillow to his chest. Draco’s eyes were still closed, his limbs spread all over the bed and a pillow crease on his cheek. Harry smiled.

“This is your fault, you know,” Harry said. “You were all like ‘Come on, Harry, it’s too early to go home’ even though it was nearly dawn.”

Draco groaned and twisted himself into a ball. “If I was hungover right now, I would have kicked you so hard.” His eyes opened and he squinted at Harry. “Can you make me tea?”

Harry snorted. “You can make yourself tea when you go down to open the shop. It’s your turn.”

Draco closed his eyes. “I don’t think anybody would miss us for one day.”

Harry sat up and rubbed at his eyes. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake up in Draco’s room after a late night. It simply involved too many additional stairs to get to the spare room, especially when one is intoxicated.

Harry winced at the cold floor against his bare feet when he got up to go to the bathroom. He examined his reflection in the mirror. There were bags under his eyes and his hair was all crumpled to one side. He ran a hand through it to muss it up, and yawned. He was a bit of a mess.

Draco still hadn’t moved when he got back into bed.

“It’s cold,” Harry complained, pulling the sheets towards him. Draco’s eyes shot open.

“That’s your own fault for getting up,” he said, and rolled closer. Harry relaxed, letting the soothing presence of Draco’s body heat lull him into complacency.

He must have drifted back to sleep, because he woke up again when Draco got back from the bathroom.

“I need to go talk to Ginny,” Harry mumbled. Draco lay down on his side, his hands tucked under his head, facing Harry.

“Yeah?”

Harry mimicked Draco’s position, and they stared at each other for a bit.

“I think I need some answers, even if I don’t want them.”

Draco’s eyes flickered around Harry’s face. “You deserve it.”

“Do you think I’m being too harsh?” Harry asked. “Am I giving up too easily? Shouldn’t I try to work things out before I just jump ship?”

Draco frowned. “Do you trust her?”

Harry averted his gaze. “I don’t know.”

“That’s the whole thing though, isn’t it? Relationships are essentially built on a foundation of trust. If that gets ripped away, there’s hardly anything left for it to stand on, you know?”

Harry looked back at Draco. “I’m so completely out of my depth with this whole thing.”

The corners of Draco’s lips perked up. “Let’s face it, you are with most things.”

Harry swatted lazily at Draco. “Why am I friends with you, again?”

Draco caught Harry’s hand before it could reach for his hair. He didn’t let go, and Harry’s eyes flicked to their clasped fingers. He didn’t make any move to pull away, and when he returned his gaze to Draco’s face, he was already watching Harry with a cautious expression on his face.

“I don’t know why you are,” Draco said quietly.

Harry propped himself up on his elbow, and gently extracted his hand from Draco’s. He used it to carefully trace Draco’s cheek, and his thumb settled just below his bottom lip. Harry let his eyes drift down, and then back to Draco’s. He leaned in slowly, tying to watch for any hesitation. Draco’s eyes widened, but he didn’t make any move to stop it.

Harry placed a soft kiss on Draco’s chin, then made to pull back. Draco’s hand flew up to his neck, keeping Harry close. Draco pulled him in, and then they were kissing properly.

Draco’s lips were soft and gave way perfectly under Harry’s touch. Harry shifted his weight so he could roll over and bracket Draco in between his arms. Harry tilted his head to deepen the kiss and shut his eyes.

Draco made a soft sound of appreciation when Harry’s tongue found his. His hands roamed up Harry’s back and into his hair, and everywhere he touched seemed to come alive.

They kissed until Harry’s lips felt numb and he couldn’t quite tell where he ended, and Draco began. Still, he couldn’t get enough, and he tried to get Draco closer.

Draco’s hand pressed against Harry’s chest, and it took him a second to realise he was being pushed away. Harry’s eyes flew open and he immediately rolled back to his side of the bed. He sat up and pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Sorry,” Harry managed to say, though his voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

“Don’t, Harry - “ Draco’s hand around his arm stopped him from bolting. “We need to talk about this.”

Harry peeked from between his fingers. Draco’s cheeks were flushed red, his lips swollen. His hair was standing up and his eyes were slightly glassy. He looked beautifully wrecked, and Harry was responsible for it.

“I disagree,” Harry said weakly.

Draco smiled at the lie and shook his head. “I’ll put the kettle on, okay?”

Harry watched him slip out of the room, then flopped onto his back. What was his life even coming to? Why did he do that? Okay, he knew why – he wanted to, and he’d never been known for his above average impulse control.

But Draco hadn’t stopped it until it was much too late to pretend it had never happened. At least Harry couldn’t be blamed solely for the mess they had to sort out now – he and Draco had always made all their worst decisions together.

Harry forced himself to get up when he heard the whistle of the boiling kettle from the kitchen. He made a beeline for the living room and curled himself up on one corner of the couch. This is how he sat when he had finally told Draco about his aunt and uncle, and the disaster that was his childhood. Since then, this became their spot for any uncomfortable conversations: Harry curled into the couch and Draco on the other end with one leg tucked beneath him and the other dangling to the floor.

It didn’t take long for Draco to join him. Harry could tell that he was pretending to hold himself together, and it stirred up a whole lot of guilt in Harry.

“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered. “I shouldn’t have kissed you and I won’t do it again.”

Draco pulled a shaky hand through his hair, holding it there for a moment. His gaze flicked hesitantly to Harry. “That’s not the problem, Harry. Trust me when I say that kissing me should never elicit an apology from you.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t think I understand.”

Draco seemed to relax. He reached for his mug and took a big sip. “When do you ever?”

“Fuck off, we’re having a serious conversation and you don’t get to be a dick right now,” Harry snapped back, feeling oddly comforted by the exchange. Maybe he wasn’t about to lose Draco, after all.

Draco smiled. “I get to be a dick whenever I want, that’s the privilege of having a best friend.”

“I don’t want to ruin that,” Harry admitted. “I really don’t want to go back to not being your best friend.”

“Me neither,” Draco said. “That’s why we’re having this conversation.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Harry blurted out the question that had been bugging him most of all.

“Honest?” Draco’s gaze was piercing through Harry’s, and he nodded hesitantly. “I didn’t want to.”

Something warm bubbled in Harry’s chest. He thought it might have been something like hope, or at the very least relief that Draco didn’t hate him.

“Okay,” Harry said. His mouth felt a bit dry. “What am I supposed to do with that, then?”

“I’m not going to be your rebound, Harry,” Draco said seriously. “If you want me, you want _me._ Don’t do this because you’re trying to forget Ginny. We’re better off as friends than strangers.”

Harry traced the rim of his mug thoughtfully. “I do want you, but I also think I know what you mean.”

Draco didn’t respond.

“I think I need to leave for a bit,” Harry finally said. “I need to sort everything out, break up properly with Ginny.” He thought of facing the rest of the Weasleys, and his stomach lurched uncomfortably. Would they still want him? They were his family and he hated the idea of having to give them up.

Draco sighed. “As much as I don’t want you to go, I agree with you.”

Harry nodded. He shot Draco a slightly wobbly smile. “Do you think I could maybe leave tonight? I really do need my best friend right now.”

Draco’s gaze softened. “Of course, love. We can watch The Breakfast Club and order in Chinese for lunch.”

***

Luna’s flat was the opposite of Draco’s. Where Draco had matching furniture, minimal trinkets and plenty of alphabetically arranged books, Luna’s place was all raggedy couches and strange plants and makeshift ashtrays.

“Does Draco taste like Cinnamon?” Luna asked, taking a drag from her cigarette. She was lying on her couch in nothing but an oversized Ramones T-shirt and a pair of yellow underwear.

“Why do you ask that?” Harry inquired from his place in the armchair. Other than the baby-blue suede couch and polka-dotted armchair, the living room didn’t contain any other furniture, except for an abandoned easel in the corner.

Luna shrugged. “I just always thought that maybe Draco would taste a bit like cinnamon. He looks like he might.”

“I don’t know,” Harry sighed. “It might be because he’s always drinking Chai tea?”

Luna looked thoughtful. “Maybe so.” She reached out to tap her cigarette against the side of an egg carton that someone had painted green. “Have you texted Ginny yet?”

Harry glanced at his phone. “We’re meeting for lunch tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to it.”

“It’ll be fine,” Luna assured him. “You’re both too eager to move on to be bitter about it.”

Harry fought a smile. “You think Draco and I have a shot, then?”

“I think if you and Draco can’t make it, no other couple should even be allowed to try,” she said seriously, lifting the cigarette back to her lips. She breathed out slowly, and Harry was struck by how beautiful she was.

“What about you?” he asked. “Got anyone special?”

Luna hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

“Tell me about it.”

Luna looked at him. “He’s in my economics class. We worked on a project together earlier this year, and I really quite like him.”

“What’s the catch?” 

Luna pulled a face and went to take another drag. “He invited me to his brother’s animal sanctuary this weekend. I guess I need to see if he’ll still be interested once he gets to know all of this.”

“All of what?”

Luna gestured vaguely around her head. “Harry, you can’t deny that I’m a bit more of a mess than your average Joe. I’m hardly who most people picture themselves settling down with.”

“Luna,” Harry said. “You are so beautiful, and interesting and incredibly smart. If I wasn’t already buried in relationship drama up to my chin, I’d marry you in a heartbeat. So, if he doesn’t like it, he can go fuck himself off a cliff.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Luna said, but Harry could hear the reluctant smile in her voice. “Though I do appreciate your support.”

Harry settled into his seat. “Thanks for letting me stay here. You’re a good friend.”

Luna put out the stump of her cigarette, getting up and stretching her arms above her head. “What are we having for dinner? I was planning on having a mimosa.”

“You can’t have a mimosa for dinner,” Harry argued. “That’s breakfast.”

Luna shot him a grin. “Who decided on these useless rules for when you can or can’t eat certain foods? Do eggs lose their nutritious value after ten AM?”

“You know what, you’re right. Let’s have mimosas.”

Harry followed Luna into the kitchen. She took orange juice and a bottle of sparkling wine out of the fridge. “People say cooking is hard. I don’t think they’re doing it right,” she said.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Why don’t you and I hang out more often?”

Luna handed him a glass that probably contained way too little orange juice to be classified as a mimosa. “That’s because you’re always with Draco or Ginny.”

Harry felt a stab of guilt. He hadn’t even noticed that he was neglecting his other friends. “We’ll change that, okay? You’ve got to cook for me more often.”

Luna grinned sheepishly. “Do you think if I cook for Rolf it’ll win him over?”

“Is that your economics guy?” Luna nodded. “Give it a shot, it probably can’t hurt to get him tipsy.”

Luna reached out to clink her glass against Harry’s. “Let’s go eat outside, I need a smoke and my hot neighbour should be hanging up her laundry right about now.”

***

“You’re staying with Luna?” Ginny asked.

Harry nodded, fiddling with his fork.

“How is that working out for you?”

Harry looked up at the amusement in Ginny’s voice. “I’ve only been there a day, but I sure am worried for my liver already.”

Ginny smirked. “As someone who shared a room with her all through first and second year of uni, I can tell you that you definitely should be worried.”

Harry smiled too, then cleared his throat. “What happened with us, Gin?”

Ginny’s smile faded and she seemed to look anywhere but at Harry. “Right. No beating around the bush, then.”

Harry was saved from having to answer by the waiter coming to take their order. Harry didn’t bother pretending to care, just asking for a plate of chips. The waiter left them alone with a pitying glance, making Harry think he might be onto the topic of their discussion.

“I thought I’d be sadder,” Harry admitted. “Like, I’m obviously not at my happiest right now, but I don’t feel like I’ll do anything to get you back, either. Mostly I’m worried about your parents’ reactions. And I’m a little miffed with Blaise, but I’ll have that out with him later.”

Ginny winced, but nodded. “Do you think we dated for the wrong reasons?”

Harry swallowed thickly. “Is that how you feel?”

Ginny smiled sadly. “Harry, you just told me the worst part about our break-up is what my mum’s going to say about it. Do you think that would have been your biggest concern if you had been dating me just for me?”

Harry stilled. “I guess not.” He scratched at his eyebrow. He was really craving a smoke, but he knew he would have to wait it out. “I really did love you, though. You were my best friend for a long time.”

The waiter showed up with their food. Harry smiled at him but didn’t make any move to touch it.

“I am sorry for what I did to you,” Ginny said. “There’s a hundred ways I could have handled it instead that would have been less hurtful.”

Harry reached for a chip, partly because he was hungry from not having had any dinner or breakfast that wasn’t alcohol, and partly because he needed something to ease the scratchiness he was feeling.

“I think I might be in love with Draco,” he blurted out. His eyes widened. “Sorry, I really wasn’t planning on bringing that up.”

Ginny frowned down at her sandwich. “I guess I’m not surprised.” She smiled apologetically. “This whole thing is just a mess, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, despite himself. Ginny’s lip wobbled, but then she was laughing with him. Harry pretended not to notice her wipe away a tear from her cheek.

“Why Blaise?” Harry asked, sobering them up quickly. “Out of everyone we know, why my friend?”

Ginny propped her elbows on the table, covering her face with her hands. Harry gave her a moment to compose herself, eating his chips in silence. They were quite good. He vowed to stop by the grocery store on his way back to Luna’s. She might be able to survive on nothing but a tablespoon of orange juice, but he needed solid foods.

Ginny took a breath and placed her hands back into her lap. “I like Blaise. He reminds me of parts of myself that I’ve completely forgotten about. He’s also entirely out of my comfort zone. You’ve been part of my family since I was ten, Harry. It made sense for us to end up together. I don’t think I want something that’s easy and logical, anymore. I want something real that’s less like playing house with my brother.”

Harry pushed away his plate, his stomach turning. “You’re right, of course. I wanted a family and you were my ticket into one. That’s not fair.”

Ginny sniffled. “We’ll always be your family, Harry. You didn’t have to marry me to make sure of that. Trust me, if one of us ought to fear Mum, it’s not you. She’s going to flay me alive for hurting you.”

Harry sighed. “I won’t tell her.”

Ginny looked at him dejectedly. “You are the kindest person I know, Harry. I’m not going to keep this from her, though. I’m done with keeping secrets. All it does is hurt people.”

Harry smiled. “You’re still so brave, Gin.”

Ginny shook her head. “I was a coward for a long time. I need to stop being so afraid to just ask for the things I want.”

Harry reached out to squeeze her hand. “We’re going to be just fine; you know?”

***

Luna had been gone on her date all day, and Harry took the opportunity to cook. He made burgers with a thick mushroom sauce and thinly sliced pineapple. As he worked, he played his music as loud as he could by dropping his phone into an empty glass. Luna owned exactly two electronic devices; one being her phone and the other her laptop that she only ever used for school.

That is why he noticed quite clearly when his music switched over to his ringtone, making him jump and drop hot sauce on his arm. He hissed and went to wipe it off quickly before answering his phone.

“Hello.”

“Harry?” Draco’s voice came over the speakerphone. It made Harry’s heart leap.

“Mr Malfoy,” Harry said sternly as he flipped the patties. “Why exactly are you calling me?”

Draco scoffed, and Harry could imagine his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Come off it. We never discussed how we’re going to handle the shop.”

Harry stilled. “Shit, you’re right.”

“I know, I tend to be.”

Harry sighed. “We can alternate morning and evening shifts.”

“How’s it going at Luna’s?”

Harry could hear Draco shuffle around like he was looking for his calendar.

“Real good,” Harry said. “I’m cooking, since she seems to mainly survive on liquor.”

“Don’t let her know you disapprove,” Draco joked. “I love my cousin and I won’t stop hanging out with her if the two of you stop getting along.”

Harry felt warmth spring up in his chest at Draco’s implication of them having common enemies, like a proper couple. He shook himself out of it, focusing instead on cutting up a tomato.

“Have you found your pen, then?” Harry asked.

“Yep. Will you work Monday morning? You know how I hate Monday mornings.”

Harry snorted. “Sure thing, if you take Friday evening.”

They squabbled over the schedule while Harry finished up the meal. He barely even heard the front door open.

“What’s going on?” Luna asked from the doorway. Harry had just placed the patties in the oven to keep warm, so he straightened up and grinned at her.

“My turn to cook, since you did last night.”

Luna hovered over to sniff at his sauce. She shot him a confused glance. “Who were you talking to?”

“Hey, Luna,” Draco greeted sheepishly. “We were talking about work.”

Luna rolled her eyes, popping a piece of tomato in her mouth. “Sure you were. Not that I really care, mind. Are you finished?”

“I guess so. Draco, can you send me a copy of that?”

“I wouldn’t dare not to,” Draco promised. “Alright, enjoy your dinner. Love you, Lunes.”

Draco hung up and Harry started assembling their food.

“So?” He asked, as Luna went about mixing them a drink. “How was it?”

She shrugged. “Fine.”

Harry turned with an eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Luna, I’ve known you since we were fifteen. Never once have you uttered the word ‘fine’. What’s going on?”

Luna sniffled slightly. She generously poured vodka into their glasses, then topped it off with grape soda. As soon as she was done, she took a big gulp of hers. “Is dinner ready yet?”

Harry took the hint and dropped the subject.

“Do you want pineapple?”

They ate in the living room in near silence. Luna had finished her drink before they’d even left the kitchen and had upgraded to just sipping straight from the bottle of vodka in between bites of her burger.

Harry had the sudden urge to call Draco and ask for advice. He did not know how to handle Luna when she had it all together. Drunk, miserable Luna was so far out of his range of abilities that he was sure he’d fuck it up without even trying.

Harry finished his food, then just sat and waited it out.

Luna abandoned her half-finished dinner on the floor, digging through her pocket for a cigarette that she lit between shaking fingers. She breathed out, closing her eyes. Harry watched her carefully, spotting the cracks in her facade. Her hair was a mess, her jaw locked tightly together and there was a faint trace of black under her left eye.

“Luna,” Harry finally said. “Do you need me to beat someone up for you?”

She ignored him.

“I mean, I’d be limited to a maximum height and weight. Naturally, they can’t be taller than me and have to weigh at most half of my body weight.”

Luna opened her eyes. She tucked the cigarette between her lips and reached down to take off her shoes.

“Luna.” Harry said, desperate now. “Just tell me to fuck off, or something. I don’t like this silence.”

With her shoes abandoned on the ground, Luna curled herself up on the couch.

“I don’t think I’m meant to date,” she said softly. “I refuse to change for anybody, and nobody wants me this way.”

Harry stood and crossed the room in a few strides. He gently took the bottle of vodka out of Luna’s hand, placing it on the floor. He tucked himself in next to her then reached for her half-smoked cigarette, placing it between his own lips. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her into his lap. She seemed to melt right into him, her face tucked into his neck and her arms tight around his shoulders. He felt her tears and just hugged her tighter.

He rubbed her back gently as she cried. She smelled like coconut and lotion, like the sunscreen Draco always bought in family-sized tubs.

By the time he’d smoked the cigarette down to a stub short enough to burn his fingers, he flicked it unceremoniously into the egg carton that was still on the couch.

“You owe me one now,” Luna mumbled tearily.

“Sure, babe,” he said. “Once you’ve calmed down.”

They sat like that until it was dark. Eventually, Luna let go of him so she could slide off his lap and onto the couch next to him. She wiped at her eyes, which was futile, in Harry’s opinion. Her mascara was smeared all over her face, and he’d already seen it. She might as well just leave it.

Harry reached into his back pocket, taking out two cigarettes. He passed one to Luna, who took it gratefully. They smoked in silence, the only light in the room coming from the red tips. It was strangely peaceful.

“I heard Rolf talking to his brother when they thought I’d gone to the bathroom.” She spoke quietly, her voice raspy. “Usually I won’t stoop to that level, but I heard my name.”

She sniffled again, wiping at her eyes. “I know what people think of me. I know I drink too much and smoke too much and I don’t own a TV. I know I use too many essential oils in the shower, and I should probably go to the doctor more often, but I like who I am, okay? I don’t think any of it makes me a bad person.”

“You’re not a bad person,” Harry said. “What did they say? Do you reckon I could take them in a fight?”

Luna shoved lightly at him. “Stop trying to bring violence into this.” She tapped her cigarette against the egg carton. “He just insinuated that because Rolf wants children in the future, he should consider whether or not he would trust me with them.”

Harry gasped. “Oh, Luna.”

“Honestly, I think I’d prefer it if Rolf just dumped me because he didn’t like my smoking.”

“That’s bullshit. He knew you for all of a day and considered himself qualified to make such strong assumptions?”

Luna shrugged. “What if he was right, though? Last night I made us a cocktail for dinner. That’s hardly responsible.”

“Luna,” Harry said, slightly exasperated. “You’re twenty-two. You’re not meant to be responsible yet. For the record, I think you’ll be a great mum. You’ll be supportive and understanding and present. Trust me, that’s all any kid could ask for.”

“Maybe,” Luna conceded. She put out her cigarette. “Or maybe I just won’t have any.”

“That’s your choice,” Harry said. “Don’t let anybody take it away from you. Especially not a man who knows next to nothing about what it takes to be a mother. Trust me. Way more people have daddy issues than mommy issues, and there’s a good reason for that.”

Luna laughed. “You’re right. My mum was the best, even though people thought she was a bit eccentric.”

“See? My aunt and uncle were the most straight-edged, boring people on the planet, and they managed to fuck me up.” He put out his own cigarette. “Appearances aren’t everything.”

“They did?”

They spent the night on the couch, in complete darkness, smoking and passing the vodka between them. Luna even found a pack of wine gums in the cutlery drawer that they shared along with stories of their childhood. Some were good, some were horrible, but either way, they seemed to have come to an understanding.

***

Blaise was busy measuring the seam for a client’s dress pants when Harry entered his shop.

“I’ll be right with you,” he called over his shoulder. Harry stood by the front desk with his arms folded over his chest. He watched Blaise put in three more pins, then stand up. Blaise glanced in his direction for the first time, and Harry saw his eyes widen.

“That’s all I need, sir. If you’ll carefully take them off and leave them on the bench in the dressing room, I’ll have it ready for you by Thursday.” Blaise directed the client into a small backroom, closing the curtain once he was inside. Then, finally, he turned to Harry.

“Harry. What are you doing here?”

Harry shrugged. “I think we need to talk.”

Blaise nodded, opening a big book on his desk. “I have some final details to finish on Hermione’s dress before she comes to pick it up later today. We can talk while I sew, if you’d like?”

Harry hesitated, then nodded.

Blaise dealt with his client, who shot Harry a polite smile as he left.

Harry followed Blaise through a door to the left of his desk and down three small steps into his workroom. A dummy stood in the centre of the room wearing a simple but beautiful wedding dress. White chiffon flowed from the waistline to the ground in effortless waves. The top was made of flowery lace that stooped into a V-neck.

“This is beautiful, Blaise. It looks like Hermione.”

Blaise smiled gratefully. “Thanks, mate. I’m really proud of it.” He walked around the dummy. “Check out the back.”

The back was made of the same flowery lace. The backline was low, the V-line ending in a line of buttons. A piece of chiffon was draped from shoulder to shoulder in a way that would accentuate Hermione’s gentle side.

“What do you still need to add?” Harry asked. He wanted to touch the soft fabric, but he was afraid of ruining it somehow.

Blaise showed him where he planned to add small beads between the flowers on the lace. Harry nodded in understanding.

“Tell me how you feel about Ginny,” Harry demanded once Blaise was sat on his chair next to the dress, sorting through a tub of beads.

Blaise looked up at him, startled. “That’s what you want to know? Look, mate, I’ve backed off, okay? I felt guilty about the whole thing before she even kissed me, because I never want to be the kind of friend who’ll screw you over for a girl. I haven’t really spoken to her since she called me that day you found out.”

“This is Ginny,” Harry said. “She’s my family. I need to make sure that she’s not miserable because of some petty thing that I could have fixed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We broke up,” Harry explained. “It turns out we’re both cowards who were in it for the wrong reasons.”

Blaise winced, going back to his beads. He had a needle now, and Harry watched him position the first bead.

“I’m sorry about that.”

Harry shook his head. “My relationship ending isn’t your fault. It’s been coming for a long time, probably. I am a little upset with you for not being a very good friend and telling me the moment it happened.”

Blaise nodded, reaching for another bead. “I felt a bit out of my depth, if I’m being honest. I’m not the most forgiving person, so I knew that if the roles were reversed, I’d likely never have spoken to you again. I couldn’t ignore myself, though, so I settled for apologising to you in person and staying away from Ginny. It might not fix the mess we created, but at least it didn’t make it worse.” Blaise shot him a sad look. “That’s what I told myself, anyway.”

Harry stayed quiet for a bit. He watched Blaise’s nimble fingers thread effortlessly through the beads. He placed them on what seemed to be the perfect spots, though Harry couldn’t predict where the next one would be. He was attractive in his confidence, and Harry was reminded of how inferior he’d felt with Blaise standing in front of him that day in the shop.

“I felt like I wasn’t good enough,” Harry admitted. “You’re beautiful, Blaise, and you’re so good at your job. I work in a coffee shop. I’ve never been the best at anything in my life. It felt a bit like I was drowning in this ocean of substandardness and I had no way of getting out.”

Blaise stopped what he was doing to devote his full attention to Harry. “You _own_ a coffeeshop, Harry. You have nothing to be self-conscious about.”

“Draco keeps saying that, but it’s a hard habit to kick.” Harry shrugged. “I wanted you to know what hurt me the most about the whole thing. You’re still my friend, Blaise, just please don’t do this again.”

Blaise met his eyes with a sincere expression. “I won’t.”

“Anyway, I think I’m in love with Draco, though, and he’s too angry at you to ever snog you, so I reckon you’ll keep your promise.”

Blaise’s eyes widened. “That’s happening?”

Harry smiled. “I really hope it will, soon.”

Blaise groaned. “Now I’m really going to have to chew off my own fingers to make it up to him, aren’t I? I know how he gets with the people he considers his.”

Harry laughed, because Blaise couldn’t have been more right. “I’ll try to put in a positive word for you, but I can’t promise that it’ll do you much good.”

Blaise picked up another bead. “You’re a good friend, Harry.”

“Ginny likes you,” Harry blurted out. “And I need to know that you’re not going to hurt her.”

Blaise hesitated. He looked at Harry. “She’s wonderful. In different circumstances, I’d go after her without any second thoughts. But I won’t overstep my boundaries. If you’re uncomfortable with the whole thing, I’ll tell her no. I’ll let her down easy so she can move on.”

Harry sighed. “This shouldn’t be about me. If I can’t give you my blessing, I can’t be with Draco, because that means I’m holding on to this vague possibility of Ginny and I getting back together. I won’t do that to him. So, if you’re serious about her, and you promise not to fuck her over, then I don’t mind. I’d rather she be with someone I trust than some stranger.”

Blaise let out a breath. “You’re sure?”

Harry nodded.

Blaise smiled, and it lit up his entire face. “I’ll do my best.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Now that we’ve had that discussion, I’d like to not talk about feelings for the next eight years.”

Blaise turned his chair so he could reach a different side of the dress. “Well, I’ve got bad news for you regarding that. Draco likes talking about his feelings.”

Harry groaned. “Don’t remind me. Just let me live a dream for today, please.”

Blaise laughed. “Sure thing. Are you staying until Hermione gets here?”

Harry nodded. “Might as well.”

“I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t have time,” Blaise said. “As much as I love my job, the brides drive me nuts.”

Harry stood. “I’ll make a coffee run.”

***

The week before Hermione’s wedding was the longest of Harry’s life. When he wasn’t working or talking Hermione down from impending panic attacks, he was lying on Luna’s couch in silence, staring at the ceiling and trying to stop himself from chain-smoking.

He was bored down to his toes, and there was nothing he wanted more than to drag Draco out of his flat so they could go somewhere. He also missed Draco, which came as a nice surprise.

There was an exciting moment on Wednesday. He was on the couch in his spot, waiting for Luna to come home so he could stop talking to himself, when there was a knock on the door. Harry didn’t react at first, thinking it was his under-stimulated mind playing tricks on him. The knock came again, though, and he hopped up fast enough to make him dizzy for a few seconds.

“Coming,” he called, tapping his cigarette against the by now falling apart egg carton before going to open the door.

The man on the other side looked to be about Harry’s age. He had neat, brown hair and piercing blue eyes that made Harry slightly uncomfortable with their intensity.

“Can I help you?” Harry asked. He was deeply aware of the fact that he was wearing nothing but boxers, and probably looked like he hadn’t seen sunlight in a month. He lifted his cigarette and forced himself to maintain eye contact with his visitor.

“Err – I’m looking for Luna?” The man asked hesitantly. His voice was quite nice.

“Who are you?” Harry asked. He was vaguely familiar with some of Luna’s friends and could recognise them either by sight or by name. He’d never seen this guy before, though.

“I’m Rolf. She’s in my economics class, but she hasn’t been in class this week. I wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re a dick, mate.” He blew a cloud of smoke right into Rolf’s face. “What do you want?”

Rolf awkwardly tried to wave the smoke away without looking like it bothered him. He failed, and Harry counted that as a victory. He wasn’t about to suck up to anybody who left him to deal with a crying Luna.

“I promise, I’m just here to see if she’s still alive.” He hesitated. “Also, she hasn’t spoken to me since Saturday and I’m not sure why. I thought we really hit it off.”

“She’s not here,” Harry said. “And for the record, I’m not really rooting for you in this situation.”

Rolf looked confused. “Did I do something to offend her? I really didn’t mean to – heck, I didn’t even notice.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really? You didn’t think criticising her ability to be a good mother would somehow hurt her?”

It was like a lightbulb went off above Rolf’s head, and he seemed to slump. He ran a hand through his hair. “I was hoping she didn’t hear that.”

Harry frowned. “Well, she did, and I’m glad for it. You can’t judge people like that and expect them to be cool with it, man.” He tapped his cigarette, letting the ash fall onto the porch.

Rolf shook his head. “No, that was all my brother. He got married last spring and now he thinks he’s got everything figured out. He treats me like I can’t possibly know what he does, even though he’s only two years older than me.”

Harry didn’t react.

Rolf groaned. “Look, I need to talk to her and apologise. I already told my brother to fuck off, but I guess she didn’t hear that bit.”

“I’ll tell her you were here,” Harry gave in with a sigh. “But you’re on your own with getting her to forgive you.”

Rolf nodded; his jaw clenched. “Thanks, mate. Will you try to figure out why she hasn’t been to class? It’s not like her, and I’m worried.”

“Sure thing.”

Rolf left, leaving Harry standing on the porch in his underwear with nothing to do.

When Luna came home an hour later, Harry managed to convince her to order a pizza. He also told her about his visitor, to which she didn’t react further than a nonchalant shrug and a rant about the way one of her stoner friends treated his garden.

On Thursday, he’d managed to come up with a plan.

“So, I’ll show up to his flat an hour before I need to leave for the wedding. I’ll take flowers or something and ask him to be my date. That’ll be romantic, won’t it?”

Luna looked thoughtful. “What kind of flowers were you thinking?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Does that matter?”

Luna’s eyes widened. “Yes! You can’t give him flowers with platonic energy, or he’ll end up confused about what you want from him.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t think me fucking up the type of flowers will take away from the fact that I kissed him, and we spent what felt like forever talking about it. Besides, does he even know anything about flowers?”

Luna waved him off with her cigarette. “It’s not about what he knows. It’s about the signal you’re going to give off to his soul.”

Harry gave in. “Fine. What kind of flowers should I get, then?”

Luna sat up. “I know the perfect ones. Let’s go.”

Harry blinked vaguely at her. “Where are we going?”

Luna stood and started to look for her shoes. “I need to show you where to get the flowers.”

Harry sat up too, reluctantly straightening his wrinkled shirt. “I was just going to go to a florist.”

“A florist!” Luna exclaimed, pulling on her sneakers. “They’ll try to give you roses. Isn’t Draco more special than that?”

Harry rolled his eyes and slipped his feet into his own shoes. “Fine.”

Luna took him to an alley behind the small Saintsbury’s. Harry had to turn on the flashlight on his phone so they could see where they were going.

“Here!” Luna bent down beside a bush of pink, frilly looking flowers. “Mathiolas.”

“What makes them special, then?” Harry asked, shooting the underwhelming flowers a sceptical glance. “They look like weeds.”

“Weeds are flowers too, Harry,” Luna said gently, like she was chastising a baby. “Once you get to know them.” She handed him a flower.

“Isn’t that from Winnie The Pooh?” Harry asked, but he lifted the flower to his nose anyway. They smelled familiar. He thought they smelled like the special biscuits Draco made when he was feeling sad. They smelled like the bell above the shop and the blanket Draco kept draped over the back of the couch. They smelled like Draco’s soap and his tea and – “They smell like Draco!”

Luna grinned at him. “Like Chai tea.”

Harry smiled too. “Thanks, Luna.”

“Hey, do you mind if we go by my friend’s house?”

“Are they having a party?”

“No.”

They stayed at the party until well after midnight, when Harry managed to convince Luna to go home with the promise of stopping by McDonald’s on the way.

On Friday, all his plans came crashing down.

It started with an uneventful shift at the coffee shop. He managed to complete an order of cupcakes for a baby shower but didn’t have anything else to do for the rest of the day. When he left around lunch time, there was only one college student in the back with his laptop.

He then helped Hermione write ‘thanks for coming’ cards while drinking red wine. That led to another unwanted heart-to-heart. Harry reluctantly went along with it, since he’d rather talk about his own feelings than have another round of ‘oh no I can’t get married tomorrow’ with Hermione.

“Ginny told me about what happened. I told her she couldn’t bring Blaise as her date.”

“Hermione, why?” Harry whined.

She frowned at him. “Why did I tell your cheating ex-girlfriend that she couldn’t bring her side piece as a date to my wedding, where you’re also going to be?”

Harry sighed. When she put it that way, it did make a lot of sense. “But I wanted to bring Draco, and now I can’t because that would be petty.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you and Draco a thing, now?”

Harry blushed. “Not yet. We took a break from seeing each other all the time so I could deal with the whole Ginny thing. It’s been a long month.”

Hermione reached for her glass. “That’s very mature of you.”

Harry groaned. “It was Draco’s idea and I agreed because it sounded smart, but it was really dumb because I miss him, and I’m bored all the time.”

A knowing smile danced across Hermione’s lips. “It sounds like it worked, then.”

Harry told her about his grand plan for Saturday. “And Luna found me the perfect flowers in the alley behind Saintsbury’s, so I was really excited about it, too.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “It was a good plan. Maybe you can still do it after the wedding, and you can go on a cute midnight car ride with him wearing pyjamas and you in your suit. Plans should be adaptable, right?”

Harry stuck his tongue out at her. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to tell Ginny she can bring Blaise.”

Hermione let her head drop. “I was really quite rude about it; I can’t retract that kind of statement without looking like an idiot. You’ll just have to come up with another perfect plan.”

They worked in silence for a couple of minutes. It reminded Harry of school, when Hermione would drag him and Ron to the library and force them to finish their homework on time. This was a lot less headache inducing, and Harry wasn’t being forced to do anything.

“I need a smoke,” Harry finally said, stretching his arms above his head. His legs cracked when he stood up.

Hermione pulled a face. “That’s a disgusting habit, Harry. I do wish you’d quit.”

Harry made a non-committed sound and stepped out onto the back porch. He lit his cigarette and breathed out slowly.

He could hardly believe his friends were getting married the next day. He was happy for them – of course he was. They deserved to be happy after all the shit they put up with from him. Ron might as well be his brother, and Harry couldn’t be more supportive of their happiness.

What gnawed at his backbone was the thought that they were getting old. Marriage seemed like something they might someday get to do. Harry couldn’t bring himself to think that he could get married now, if he wanted. It seemed like such a permanent commitment that he could feel his palms get sweaty at the thought. He reckoned he understood Hermione’s panic attacks better now.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the muffled sound of his phone ringing somewhere in the house. He turned to look through the sliding doors. Hermione had picked up his phone and was looking at it with a frown. She noticed him looking at her, and she lifted it up, as if asking for permission to answer. He nodded, frowning.

He wasn’t sure who’d be calling him. It might be Luna, if she had made a particularly exciting discovery.

Hermione’s frown deepened as she listened to whatever the person had to say. She met Harry’s gaze, and her face morphed into a look of sympathy. She got up, opened the sliding door, and passed Harry his phone without a word.

He took it, feeling no small amount of trepidation. It couldn’t have been anything pleasant to make Hermione react like that.

“Hello?”

“Harry?” Draco’s voice was shaky and hoarse, and Harry knew at once that he had been crying.

“What’s wrong? Where are you?” Harry immediately dropped his cigarette on the ground, stepping on it to put it out, then bent down to pick it up so Hermione wouldn’t yell at him.

“I’m fine,” Draco said. “Just – I don’t know what to do.”

“I can hear that you’re not fine, Draco. Don’t lie to me. What happened?”

“My father.” Draco cleared his throat. “Uhm, I think he just died?”

Harry felt his blood run cold. He stepped through the still open sliding door. Hermione gave him a look like she knew what was going on.

“Where are you now?”

Harry sat down on the couch, pinching the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could pull on his shoes.

“You don’t need to come over, I’ll be fine. It’s not like I liked him much.”

Harry scoffed. “Fuck off, I’m coming over. Are you home? Do you need anything? Have you eaten?”

Draco stayed silent for a few seconds, then sighed as if he had given up. “I’m closing the shop now.”

“Good, I’ll be right there. What do you want for dinner?”

“Can you get those special chicken strips with the jalapenos inside?”

“Sure thing. Sit tight, okay?” He hung up and looked at Hermione apologetically. “I have to go.”

She nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry nodded, already on his way out.

Draco was curled up on the couch under the throw blanket when Harry got there, carrying a paper bag.

“They only had mayonnaise, sorry.”

“No cream cheese?” Draco asked.

“No.” Harry went about plating their food. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I’ll make tea later.”

Harry wanted to poke fun at Draco for offering to make tea for once instead of just demanding that Harry do it, but he wasn’t sure if it would be the right time.

Harry took Draco his plate and sat down on his spot on the couch. They ate mostly in silence, Draco’s attention vaguely directed at the television, though Harry recognised the movie as an old Disney animation that Draco hated.

“Why are we watching this?”

“Can’t find the remote,” Draco mumbled around a mouthful of chicken. “Can’t be bothered to look for it.”

Harry reached out and tugged at the blanket that was covering Draco. Draco scowled at him, then let it go when Harry plucked the remote from somewhere next to his left thigh.

“Anything specific?” Harry asked, already scrolling to find The Breakfast Club.

“The Breakfast Club,” Draco said, which made Harry smile and press play. As erratic as Draco could be, he really wasn’t all that unpredictable.

Harry grabbed Draco’s plate when he was finished and took it to the kitchen along with his own. He went about making tea. English Breakfast for him and Peppermint for Draco, from the special Sad Box, so named because it featured a very morose looking woman on the front of the box.

Draco took his mug absently, gaze trained on where John Bender was ripping up library books. Harry hesitated for only a moment, then lifted Draco’s blanket so he could slot himself in against his side. Draco leaned into him and Harry pulled him close with an arm around his shoulder.

“You know,” Harry said casually. “I was going to bring you flowers tomorrow.”

Draco looked up at him, wide-eyed. “You were?”

Harry nodded. “I was going crazy without you this month.”

Draco sighed and sipped at his tea. “It’s been a long month.”

Harry stared intently at Draco. “You knew your father wasn’t doing well?”

Draco winced. “He’s been ill for a long time, Harry.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Draco’s gaze was piercing on his, clear and collected. “We had an agreement. I wasn’t going to bother you until you were ready.”

Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. “This whole time, I’ve been on Luna’s couch, counting down the minutes until I could see you again. If I’d known that you’d been hurting… I always want you to call me, no matter what other stupid shit I have going on, okay?”

Draco sighed, a quick, harsh sound that travelled all the way down Harry’s spine. “Why does it bother me so much? He didn’t like me, and I wanted nothing more than to be free of his judgement. Shouldn’t I be happy? Or at least not this beaten up about it?”

“Family is a strange thing,” Harry said. He nodded towards the TV. “Haven’t you seen this movie enough times by now to realise that?”

“I doubt Bender would cry for his father,” Draco said bitterly. “Why can’t I summon that kind of energy?”

“Bender might not be unaffected,” Harry argued. “Deep down, I think all he really wants is for his parents to be proud of him, you know? Once they’re gone, there’s no chance of that happening.”

Draco hid his face in Harry’s chest so he couldn’t see the screen. “Do you think I wanted that, too?”

Harry raised a hand to gently stroke through the silky strands of Draco’s hair. “Of course you did, babe. You grew up idolising your father. With that kind of mentality, it’s incredible that you managed to break away at all, and I’ll always be proud of you for leaving. But he’s still your dad, and he still meant a lot to you at one point. That kind of loss is going to show, at least for a little while.”

Draco shook, and Harry pulled him closer to his body. He let him be, focusing on the movie that he’d seen a thousand times before, every time one of them had a rough day.

They sat like that until everyone was high and dancing around the library. Draco finally sat up and wiped futilely at his eyes. Harry reflexively grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“Leave it,” Harry said softly. “I’m the only one here.”

Draco reached out to touch Harry’s chin. He pulled, and Harry indulged him. This kiss was gentler, wetter and generally sadder than their first one, but it meant a whole lot more.

“I think I love you,” Draco mumbled.

Harry nodded. “I know.” He placed another soft kiss on Draco’s temple. “I love you back.”

“I’m not going to the wedding tomorrow,” Draco said. “I’m too salty about not being invited, and regardless, I should check on Mother. Should I get Luna to guard you all night or will you be able to refrain from getting Ginny pregnant on your own?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “If Ginny is going to be pregnant any time soon, that baby is going to be born with dark skin, and you know it.”

“Who would have thought?” Draco mused. “Blaise somehow managed to get you whipped for his unborn, fictional baby. I think I’ll stay pissed at him for just a while longer, thanks. Nobody stabs my man in the back without cutting me, too.”

Harry nudged Draco with his elbow. “Don’t be so bitter. Blaise’s mistake got us here, didn’t it?”

“On second thought,” Draco declared, picking up his cup and shoving it in Harry’s direction. “I might owe him a fruit basket.”

“Does Blaise even like fruit? Maybe a breadbasket would be more appropriate,” Harry said, standing to make tea on instinct.

This was his home, he realised. Draco and the coffee shop and watching The Breakfast Club more than could ever be considered healthy. They were going to be just fine.


End file.
